


I've Always Known (With You, I Am Home)

by getgeekywithit



Series: Songs to Darcy [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dealing With Loss, Family, Other, talks about canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getgeekywithit/pseuds/getgeekywithit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn’t sure how many times she read the words before she looked away, down at her hands. “Hey, Phil.” she said quietly, because she hadn’t called him anything else in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Always Known (With You, I Am Home)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of both my songfic series which is supposed to have [mostly] unrelated oneshots, the only ones I've gotten done so far just happen to be related, and my Where the Heart is series, this being the second part. You don't have to read the first part to get this one, but some bits prolly make much more sense if you do. The song used to prompt this one is Home by Vanessa Carlton, and is also where the title comes from.

Phil Coulson heard a lot of confessions in his life. What it was about him that people found comforting enough that they felt safe confiding in him, he never did find out.

 

“—Still have nightmares. I wake up thinking I’m still in the Red Room—” Natasha.

 

“They’ll think I’m weak. No one wants to work a deaf agent, they call it a liability—” Clint.

 

“—And I know one day he’s not going to come home. I’m not sure how much longer I can take knowing that, Phil.” Pepper, softly, on the way to LaGuardia.

 

In death, it seemed things did not change, if the SHIELD security feeds meant anything. There was no grave for anyone to visit—his body had been cremated, his ashes delivered to his wife. However, SHIELD was no stranger to losing agents, and they’d long since established a room that was far too large and far too full in at their New York ground headquarters. Not everyone got quite the size plaque that he did, nor was everyone set quite so far apart from the others, but no one was going to argue that he didn’t deserve it. People came alone and stood before the agent’s picture, and just let the words fall from their lips.

 

“—Going to try staying. It… things feel right here. Or more right than they have in a long time.” Bruce.

 

“She left. I don’t blame her, and she says she still love me, she just can’t do this anymore. We’ll be friends but it won’t really be the same will it? Still haven’t told anyone—” Tony.

 

“Not sure how I’m supposed to keep leading them when everyday things still make no sense to me.” Steve, fully suited up, gripping his shield harder than was necessary.

 

And so it went, a steady stream of people, plenty of repeats over the year since his death. There was always one missing, a hole that everyone could feel but most couldn’t really explain. Even after the big revelation only days before the official anniversary of the loss, the number of people who could understand the missing thing was still only a very small handful.

 

She just couldn’t make herself do it. She hadn’t gone to his funeral—the SHIELD one or the one held by their family. She’d told herself she’d go talk to him when she was ready. That time—the time when she felt she would be able to do it and not break down, that is—just  never came. The year mark hit and she watched silently as everyone left in a group for the memorial, at the same time avoiding concerned looks that were aimed her way.

 

The thing was, she knew on some level she was never going to be ready. At least not in the way she wanted to. She still had nightmares, even set solidly between two warm and comforting bodies at night. She still felt something squeeze in her throat when her mind strayed too far into a territory she had set off limit months ago. She still avoided her brother’s phone calls because _she just wasn’t ready._

 

After awhile, not being ready just wasn’t a reason.

 

And so here she was.

 

Unlike everyone else who visited, Darcy didn’t just stand there stiffly, arms hanging or hands held behind her back. Instead she sank to the floor and sat with her legs crossed, just as she had done when she was young. She looked up at the plaque and the picture, wringing her hands in her lap.

 

_Philip J. Coulson_

_1962 – 2012_

_One of the greats. He never stopped believing in heroes._

She wasn’t sure how many times she read the words before she looked away, down at her hands. “Hey, Phil.” she said quietly, because she hadn’t called him anything else in a long time.

 

* * *

 

_“Daddy, we have to talk.” Four year old Darcy said very seriously, big blue eyes focused on her father. It was the first time she’d seen him in six months, but she was still young enough that she got excited when he finally did come back. She grabbed his hand and led him through the house. It was a new one; their very first move and they’d only been there for three months. It was modest, and looked settled in, signs of the twins all over the place; signs of their mother in the form of shoes left out, a purse sitting in the front hall, sheet music laying around. The only person there was no sign of was one Phillip Coulson._

_She led him out to the back, where she than sat herself down unceremoniously on the porch, legs crossed. He didn’t hesitate to follow her example, and didn’t seem to care that his suit would wrinkle or get dirty. “Yes, Darcy?” he asked his daughter when they had settled, and gave her his full attention._

_“Daddy, did you know,” she began, and leaned in, lowering her voice to conspiratorial whisper. “That Miles is a_ boy _?” The whisper wasn’t necessary, there was no one to overhear them. Yes, Kayla and Miles were home, but the mother and son were having a piano lesson; Miles had taken to playing instruments much more than his sister had, loving whatever their mother had to teach him whereas Darcy just got bored. She preferred to listen to music, not to make it herself._

_It’d been obvious he was fighting the urge to smile at his child’s words. “Yes, I was aware of the fact your brother is a boy. Is that a problem?”_

_Darcy rolled her eyes and let out and overdramatic exasperated noise. “Yes! How come no one told me?!”_

_“We assumed you knew. What did you think he was?”_

_“Miles!”_

_“And he’s not Miles now because he’s a boy?”_

_That made Darcy pause, her eyebrows furrowed together. “No…” she said slowly._

_A small smile finally appeared on her father’s face. “What, exactly, is wrong with Miles being a boy?”_

_“Boys are—they’re gross daddy!” the four year old sputtered, as if her father should know that._

_“You know Darcy, I’m a boy, just like your brother.”_

_“No you’re not!” Darcy said disbelievingly, blue eyes going wide._

_Coulson nodded solemnly. “Now, you don’t think your brother and I are gross, do you?”_

_“…Guess not.” the girl mumbled._

_“So maybe it’s not that all boys are gross, just the ones not related to you?” because hey, he was still a father. It took a moment, but eventually Darcy nodded, and then she was scrambling into her father’s lap and throwing her arms around his neck._

_“Love you daddy. You’re not gross.”_

_His arms automatically went around her. “Love you too Darcy.”_

* * *

“I, er… I told.” Darcy said softly, unable to look up from her lap. “Actually, Stark went snooping and found out. Hazards of living around the man I guess.” She picked at a loose thread at the edge of her sweater. “I don’t mind it though—living at Stark Tower I mean.”

 

* * *

 

_Their place this time is a large apartment, which he had barely had any time to become familiar with in the week he’d been there to visit his family. The twins were now seven and this was their third move, and only the fourth time they’d seen him since he’d started with SHIELD._

_The time seemed to pass too fast, and it was already time for him to go again, for who knew how long. The stretches between his returns were ever growing, as he seemed to worry more about drawing attention to them by interacting too much._

_Miles had already given him a hug, Kayla had given him a lingering kiss. Darcy? Well, she was nowhere to be seen. He had a flight to catch, but he had to at least try and talk to his daughter, who had been quiet most of his visit. Long gone were the days of her broad smiles and clinging hugs when he came home. At seven, his girl was far more jaded than he had ever dreamed was possible._

_He didn’t knock on her door, and she didn’t react when he entered her bedroom without permission. She’d only looked up at him from where she sat crossed legged on her bed then went immediately back to the book in her lap._

_“I’m leaving Darcy.” he said, hovering in the doorway._

_“Okay.” she said, her voice flat and her eyes firmly avoiding his._

_He sighed, and walked further into the room, coming to sit on the edge of her bed. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”_

_She didn’t answer him; didn’t even look at him. Instead she pointedly turned the page of her book. “Darcy, talk to me.”_

_For a few moments, it seemed his daughter was just going to continue to ignore him, and no one would really put that past Darcy—the seven year old was far more stubborn than most people thought possible. Finally though, she spoke softly. “If I don’t say it, you won’t leave.”_

_“What?”_

_She looked up at him, and her eyes were shiny from held back tears, which tugged at her father’s chest. “If I don’t say goo—say it, you won’t leave. Not until I say it at least. So I’m not.”_

_“Darcy, either way I do have to go back. I would just prefer to hear you say goodbye.”_

_“You’re here right now. You were s’posed to be gone already.” she pointed out, clinging to her logic._

_“I want to see if you would say goodbye. But since you won’t and I really can’t stay any longer, goodbye sweetheart. I love you and I’ll set up a call to you and your brother soon.”_

_He stood, and walked out of the room. It wasn’t until he was a few feet down the hall that he heard scrambling in Darcy’s room, and the soft slap of bare feet following after him. She connected with his back, her arms reaching around him and holding on tightly. He didn’t pull away from her, and instead he turned in her hold and knelt down so she could move her arms to wrap around his neck. She buried her face in his shoulder. “Love you too. I’ll miss you Daddy.”_

_“I’ll miss you too. No goodbye?” he asked, and she shook her head furiously. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to you again as soon as I can Darcy.” he kissed the top of her head and pulled away._

* * *

 

“I think this is the first time in a long time where I’m not wondering where I’m going to be forced to go next, y’know?” She blew out a long breath. “And when I say bye to anyone there, I know they’ll be back. It may take a few days, but I know I’ll see them soon. I never… I never knew that with you, Phil.”

 

* * *

 

_He could hear the argument on the other end of the line. Harsh words not said quietly enough to escape his notice passed between his wife and daughter._

_“Just talk to him, he misses you and he went through a lot of trouble to set this up!”_

_“No! If he misses me so much, he can come see us! It’s been what? Two years now? Two years and oh, like three phone calls means I’m no longer required to talk to him!”_

_“Darcy Gwendolyn Lewis, so help me god if you do not take this phone right—” Kayla was cut off by a shrill noise of what he guessed was aggravation. At fourteen, Darcy had gotten ridiculously good at the moody, angry at the world teenager shtick, not that he’d been able to see as much in person. He only had Kayla’s letters and calls to his family to go on._

_There was some silence, then an irritable “What?”_

_He let out a long breath. “Hello Darcy.”_

_“Hi, Phil.” he winced; he’d never known that his name could be used as a weapon until it flew off Darcy’s tongue with very precise aim._

_“How are you?”_

_“Me? Oh, let’s see.” he could almost imagine her ticking items off on her fingers as she spoke. “I’ve just gone through my second move in one year, I’ve been at my new school for a week and it sucks, they put Miles and me in completely different tracks so I don’t even have him, and now I’m being forced to talk to you when I really don’t want to.”_

_Yes, this definitely was a moody teenager. Whereas her brother had been more muted [lots of simple answers, had to be poked to share more], Darcy was going to be openly hostile and unapologetic about it, he could tell. He could do this, he dealt with two of the surliest agents SHIELD had on a daily basis. “You’ll make friends, it takes time.”_

_On the other end, Darcy snorted. “What’s the point? I’ll make friends and then you’ll just move us again.”_

_“I’m sorry. You know I just do it because I want to make sure you’re all safe.”_

_“No, I don’t know that. You say that, Mom says that, but you know what? Nothing ever happens. The only time I ever see men in black is when you have them show up at our door to tell Mom where we’re being shipped next, or when you send them to pick me up because you can’t be bothered.”_

_“If you would stop running away, I wouldn’t have to keep sending them to pick you up.”_

_“That’s not the point Phil! You know what you could do if you wanted us safe so badly? You could come live with us. Like you’re supposed to.”_

_“Darcy, you know I can’t.”_

_“Of course you can! You could even bring some of your precious agents. There’s plenty of room! Did Mom tell you about the new place? It’s big, too frikin’ big. And smack dab in the middle of suburbia with all of these people who are in such stupidly nice, stupidly normal families. Do you know how much we stick out?”_

_“Darcy—”_

_“No, you don’t know! Because you’re never, ever here! You never come to see us, you never call, and you’re not allowed to just expect me to pretend everything is fine and normal!”_

_There was thumping noise, like she’d dropped the phone, and then Darcy was gone. A moment later there was a rustling, and then Kayla’s voice. “Phil? I’m sorry, she’s just…”_

_“I know Kay, it’s okay.” he said with a sigh. “Just, tell her I love her when she calms down please?”_

_He could almost hear his wife’s gentle, sad smile as she spoke. “Of course. I love you Phil.”_

_“Love you too, Kayla.”_

* * *

She swiped at her eyes, her hands coming away wet with tears. “And… and I actually get to pick whether I’m staying or going. And mostly, I think I plan on staying. This is the first place I can really remember feeling like a home. You know… you know why nowhere else felt like it.”

 

* * *

 

_“What the fuck is this?!” Darcy yelled the question, waving the papers he’d just given her around. Not only had he shown up at her hole in the wall of an apartment at 5AM, but he’d shown up with things she didn’t want. Things she’d thought she was done with. “I’m not going to fucking Norway, Coulson!”_

_“It’s your next assignment, Darcy.” Even after years of her calling him by his name, he never once rose to the bait and called her ‘Ms. Lewis’ or ‘Agent Lewis’ in private. When they were keeping up appearances, of course, but otherwise, she was always Darcy._

_“The hell it is! Anyone can look after Jane, it doesn’t have to be me!”_

_“Dr. Foster is your responsibility.”_

_“Friend, Phil. She’s my friend. Damn near family, but I get how that concept is probably foreign to you.”_

_She felt a sort of angry satisfaction to see her father flinch at her words. He continued on though. “You’ve been assigned to go with Dr. Foster, for the safety of you both. You’ll be leaving as soon as you put a bag together.”_

_“‘For my safety’.” she mimicked angrily. “Of fucking course. I finally get to pick where I’m living and it’s even in the same damn city as you, even if you still are never around, and you still manage to uproot me and throw me wherever you want. You know, it’s supposed to be the other way around Phil. The fact that I don’t have a home, I just have some place I come back to should be attributed to the fact that key people in my life, like, I don’t know, my father,_ aren’t _around. It shouldn’t be because you are in my life doing your best to make sure I can’t settle anywhere.”_

_“Darcy…” he said quietly, and it was clear from his tone she’d managed to shock him._

_“Whatever.” she said, throwing the papers back at him, and stalking to her room to pack a bag._

* * *

Her shoulders shook. “All I ever wanted was to have you and Mom and Miles in one place. And I never got that and I blame you. It’s not fair, I know, but I do. You wanted to keep us safe, but I could care less about stupid safety and protocols. And I got angry. And I didn’t say goodbye when I left and I just yelled at you and I got back and you were gone! You were gone, and any chance of Mom and Miles and me getting to just have you was gone.  And—and—.” She stammered and broke off, a sob escaping. She was at the point of no stopping, where her vision blurred from the tears, her body shook, and she couldn’t control the sounds that came from her mouth.

 

“Go away!” she shouted when she heard the door to the room slid open. She turned and looked in time to catch the face of a wide-eyed junior agent before he scurried off. She wiped ineffectually at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, taking in ragged breaths. Moments later when she heard the door open again, she spat out “I said _go away_!” without looking up.

 

This time, her visitor didn’t retreat. She felt slender arms slide around her as Natasha fell to her knees beside Darcy. She murmured softly in Russian as she pulled Darcy in, words that Darcy found comforting even though she didn’t understand them. “It’s okay Darcy, it’s okay.” Natasha soothed quietly, switching to English.

 

“Hey, some baby agent is babbling about how one of ours is losing it in here—” Clint came up short, taking in the sight of the two women sitting on the floor. “Right.” he said with a bit of determination before walking across the room to crouch in front of them. He reached out and gently lifted Darcy’s chin so that her eyes met his. “So what’s all this? Who’s knee do I need to put an arrow through?”

 

Darcy gave him a shaky smile. “Can’t put an arrow through the knee of a dead guy, Agent Barton. I don’t think I’d want you to anyway.” she said, her voice hoarse.

 

Clint nodded in understanding, pushing her hair back away from her face. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

 

She nodded jerkily and leaned more on Natasha. “I was a shitty daughter.”

 

“I’d think Agent Coulson would disagree with that.” Natasha said gently, rubbing the younger woman’s back. “You were an angry daughter perhaps, but all you wanted was your family together and happy. That’s the sign of a really, really, good daughter.”

 

“I…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Clint and Natasha shared a look, but neither pushed, knowing this wasn’t the kind of thing you could just talk someone into believing. Darcy was a smart girl, she’d figure it out in time. “I need to finish talking to him.” she told them finally. The _alone_ was unsaid, but understood. They only hesitated a moment before withdrawing from her.

 

“We’ll wait outside, and we can all go home when you’re done, okay?” Clint said. Darcy bit her lip and nodded. It was still odd to hear people referring to going home without objecting to the use of the word. And just like that, Clint and Natasha were gone, but not far, she knew.

 

She sighed and stood, facing the picture and plaque on the wall. “I know you didn’t want this life for me, that you thought I was safest well away from the madhouse.” she ran a hand through her hair, and smiled sadly. “But, I feel most okay here in the middle of the craziness, okay? Assassins, agents, superheroes, mad scientists, and all. When they’re around…” she trailed off, and took a deep breath. “When they’re around, I know I’m home, just like when I was little and the few times you came around it felt like there was a home. I know I haven’t said it in a long time, but I love you Dad.”

 

Her voice broke a little at the end, and the tears started again, but she walked out of the room knowing things were getting better, a fact that was enforced when she was immediately flanked by two people who probably had the biggest hands in her feeling like she had someplace to go and feel at home.


End file.
